


Cinderette

by RescueSatellite



Series: Cinderette [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Cinderella AU, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Part 2, Romance, Series, Slow Burn, Soulmates AU, fairytale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 21:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15495498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RescueSatellite/pseuds/RescueSatellite
Summary: The ball is over, and Marinette and Adrien are left to figure out what it means for the both of them. Something is stirring in the shadows of the kingdom, and it will be up to the will of the gods to decide the fate of the lands.





	1. The Before

Cold, wet mud slapped the underside of the carriage as it raced down the road. Marinette sat in its back seat, being uneasily jostled back and forth with every bump in the road or turn taken too quickly. She held tightly to the earrings dangling at her neck, feeling the warmth that Tikki offered with her magic. 

She didn’t know when Madame would be home, nor when she would be. The night was growing old, and her nerves escalated with every passing minute.

What might her torture be for being so late that night? 

Tikki stopped just beyond the gate that lead to the mansion’s drive. Marinette felt the warm fabric of her dress slip off of her being, and her glass shoe turned to leather. The carriage dissipated around her in a flash of red and pink light. Her hair fell down around her shoulders, no longer tethered by pins made of magic and warmth. 

Marinette grabbed the front of her dirty skirts and began running down the drive with her spare shoe in hand. Her bare feet turned up the mud created by a light summer rain. The cool water splattered across her forehead and plastered her hair to her cheeks in messy curls. She sprinted to the kitchens and stood, panting, in the doorway. 

Neither Rose nor Juleka were in sight, and she wondered where they might be. Certainly, Madame and her sisters had already returned from the ball. 

As quickly as possible, Marinette washed off her face and muddy feet, and found an old pair of worn slippers to put on her feet in place of her lost shoe. She hid the spare under her makeshift bed. Water for tea boiled in the furnace, and she hurried to the cabinets to prepare a plate of biscuits for her returning family members. 

When the kettle sang, she poured the boiling water into a clay pot filled with bags of tea and carried the tray up the broken stairs to the main building. 

Marinette approached the parlor, and was perplexed that she didn’t hear any noise. No chatter, no singing or laughing or music. It was dark and silent, as was the rest of the house. 

The china rattled as she set it down on a side table in the parlor, and went to explore the house. 

Bedrooms were empty, as were powder rooms, closets, and under beds. When she walked back down to the kitchens, they were empty as well. 

Marinette sat with a huff on the only chair in the kitchen. It’s rickety legs wobbled beneath her but held steady. She listened carefully around the house, but heard nothing but the soft snoring of barn animals outside. Wistfully, she stood and walked out to them. 

The rain had stopped, but left thick mud on the ground. She walked through it without a thought and sit on one of the few benches outside. The old dog that used to herd sheep in the pasture walked over to her. Most of the livestock had been sold upon the death of her father. All that was left were horses for the carriages, cows for milk, and chickens for eggs. Goats, sheep, ducks, and swan were no longer found on the property as they used to be. 

She pet the head of the old dog absentmindedly. The racing of her heart eventually slowed to a trot, then a slow walk, and she breathed deeply in the warmth of the night. 

It was strange to have a moment to think. The stars sparkled brightly above her through the dispersing rain clouds, and a light breeze carried to her the smells of the wet night. She loved the smell of the rain. 

Sitting back and mindlessly petting the dog’s head in her lap, she thought of what would happen the next day. They were leaving early, as her aunts had to return to their home by the following evening, and it took almost an entire day to get back. 

Marinette was dreading the ride, in a cramped space with so many other girls who would no doubt be yelling at each other for some unknown reason the entire time. She preferred the silence of the kitchens, or the occasional singular noises of her sisters playing music or singing in the parlor, perhaps having a civil conversation about their marriage prospects. She had no idea what to expect from her aunts and cousins. She had never been to their mansion before. She didn’t know who they had on staff. She was scared. 

After perhaps an hour of sitting in wait for the group to arrive, she heard the quiet crunch of wheels and hooves on the gravel drive. She stood quickly and put the water back on. 

She remembered the tea tray that she had set on the parlor table before she had gone to explore the house, and jumped into action. The tea would likely be cold, and the girls would have nothing to do with it. 

Marinette scrambled quickly up the servant’s corridor and to the parlor, where she just grabbed the tray before Madame appeared in the doorway. 

“You have tea prepared?” 

Marinette shook her head. “I’m brewing a fresh pot. This has been sitting out. I thought you would be here earlier.”

Madame sighed heavily. “Yes, well. We assumed that we would have some luck with the girls at the ball, but the gentlemen were much harder to figure out. Butchers were wearing purple. Purple!” She ran her hands down her own purple gown and shivered. “Could you imagine? Common folk dressed up like royals. It took quite a while to weed out the unsuitable dregs for the true gentlemen of the pack.” She shuffled her clutch in her hands and picked imaginary lint from her glove. 

“We won’t be needing tea tonight. The girls are going straight to bed, they have an early start tomorrow. Go, go.” She shooed Marinette away and she bowed her head, walking shyly towards the exit. As she made it to the door, Madame called for her again. “You know, Marinette. You’ve put us in quite a bind, doing what you did. I didn’t want to do what I did, but you forced my hand.”

Marinette tensed. There was no reason, really, for Madame to do what she had done. She had claimed her terrible treatment of her step daughter was in the name of a lost, unrequited love, but that didn’t excuse the malice in her heart. 

Under the guise of a broken heart, Madame used Marinette to satisfy her every whim. She slept on the floor, searched for scraps to eat, never had a warm night in the winter or a cool one in the summer. She was small and skinny and pale for her age, the gaunt hollow to her cheeks only accentuated by the crop of fringe that she swept to the side. Her calloused hands and feet and the ache in her lower back were constant reminders that when she lived in that house, she was not a part of the family, and she was not safe. 

No tragic backstory excused the suffering she went through. 

“No one made you do what you did, stepmother.” She bit out the words. They crunched in her mouth. “You had every chance to treat me with decency, but you _chose_ to be cruel. You chose to treat me like a dog, and work me like… like you had no regard for me, or for my father. You claimed you loved him, but you never showed a hint of love for the only thing he left behind!” 

Marinette refused to make eye contact. Too many thoughts were whirling in her head and she was afraid if she looked at Madame’s stern gaze she would lose her spine. 

Truthfully, she couldn't imagine anyone she knew stooping to the lows that Madame had, besides the woman’s sisters. Tyrantry ran in their family, she supposed. 

Her friends, who she just now began considering her friends, would have given her a bed to sleep in. They would have let her sleep in their own if they didn’t have the means, while Madame left her lying on soaking and rotten hay too hard for the cows to eat. 

Alya would have brought her in, her house smelling like fresh flowers, and let her eat with her family, rather than let her fend for herself and eat whatever her stepsisters didn’t finish. 

Louis might have traded her a plate of cookies for gorgeous sun dresses and evening gowns that he made with extra special care. 

Chat Noir might have told her a joke when she was feeling lonely. He night have bowed low and kissed her hand and called her ‘My Lady’, and they would have smiled to one another and he would have made her feel better, if only for a moment. 

And Adrien. 

She spent hours imagining what he might have done if she asked. Fanciful daydreams of him sweeping her away to his castle and lavishing her with gowns and affection clouded her mind, and brought her away from her current situation for the moment. 

She wished more than anything that she could replace her life with one like theirs. And she asked herself why she allowed this life to continue the way it had. She deserved better, did she not?

“You treated me like dirt for years. You abused me, neglected me, and hurt me. Every day!” The tray clenched in her hands, the china rattling as she shook. “While you taunted me with the treasures Chloe and Sabrina were given, you gave me nothing. Less than nothing! And worse, you made me believe that I deserved it.”

She got the courage to look at Madame, who didn’t look angry. She looked perplexed. Stunned. 

“But no one - _no one_ \- deserves what you did to me. And I see that now, no thanks to your influence. And I know that no matter what I face with your sisters, it won’t be as bad as what I get here. Nothing could be.” She laughed bitterly. “How could it be?

“I’m glad I’m leaving. I’m scared, but I’m glad. Getting away from you is going to do me well.” She turned and left. The silence was tense and thick as she fled down the stairs with the tray in her hand. She attended to some of her cousins and her stepsisters to ready them for bed, but avoided Madame at all cost. With any luck, she wouldn’t see her at all before it was time for her to leave.   
……

They were up before the sun was even cresting along the horizon. Marinette held her little nap sack over her shoulder, stuffed to the brim with her mother’s journals and her spare shoe. She had saved some scraps of the fabric that Louis had given her for the dress she gave to Alya. There might have been enough material to make herself a shirt or a skirt, so she brought them along with her. 

Juleka, Rose, and Marinette loaded the large trunks that held her cousin’s elaborate dresses, shoes, and shawls into the carriage. It took half the morning to lug them all the way down the stairs without bumping them into the narrow walls of the servant’s corridors. When they finally made it to the bottom, they were sweating and panting. 

They put their own things in alongside the other trunks, which all together took up barely a fraction of the space available. Rose and Juleka only took a pair of shoes and two fresh outfits along with them. They had no trinkets, nothing to remind them of their home. 

Marinette knew that the two didn’t actually grow up in their master’s house like she had. They lived normal children’s lives up until they began to work. And they were able to go home to sleep during the night, if they wished. Although many preferred to sleep in the mansion, as the walk home was long, and they worked hard into the night, then rose early the next morning. 

Juleka had told Marinette that they barely saw their families except for some weekday nights. They were expected to work even harder on weekdays, especially when they had guests. But occasionally, the women of the house were out, and they had little work to do. If the other staff were feeling especially generous, they would cover the work of someone with a sick child to take care of, or who had some other matters to tend to. 

It wasn’t as bad as she thought, she had been assured. The mistresses were much more lenient when they weren’t trying to make a good impression on guests. But you still had to tread lightly, especially when they were in a bad mood. They weren’t above whipping in any context. 

The three girls escorted the seven women from their bedrooms to the awaiting carriage. It had been pulled as close to the steps of the mansion as possible to avoid them having to step in the mud created from the previous night’s rains. Manon still complained that she was getting her skirts dirty. Aurora snapped back that it was because she was so short. 

This caused a ripple of fighting to careen through the girls, who all began picking on each other’s various unfortunate features. Alix’s short hair, which she got caught in some tree sap when she was out climbing and had to be cut off. Aurora’s nails, which she bit to wicks. Manon’s height, even though she claimed she was the youngest and couldn’t help it. No matter how small, they were picked on and they bit down viciously. No holds were barred. 

Marinette was shocked that they hadn’t all killed each other yet. 

Her aunts were the last to come down. When they appeared at the door, held open by Rose and Juleka on either side, the arguing was silenced. They allowed their aunts to get in the carriage first, and they took up the space they needed. The other five girls cramped themselves into the little spaces that were left to them. Manon sat on the floor. 

Rose and Juleka prepared them breakfast and lunch for the long journey, but they would have dinner when they reached home. The three servants sat in the front, covered from head to toe in the warmest clothes they could find. Though it would warm up by midday, the night air had yet to disperse with the coming of the sun, and the wind was frigid and cold. 

Marinette had less to bundle up with than the other girls, but she insisted she would be fine. She suppressed the chattering of her teeth as Juleka took the reins. 

When she looked back at the door of the mansion, she saw Madam, still in her nightgown, standing at the door. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and there were traces of her night cream still on her face where it had not absorbed into her skin. Her look of malice shot shivers down her spine, and she quickly looked away. 

Slowly at first, the horses yoked to the carriage began pulling, then gaining speed. They turned away from the house and began down the lane; eventually the horses sped to a trot. 

At the gates, they turned on the lane away from the town and the castle. Marinette stood on the bench to get a last look at the mansion. She saw the vague shape of Madame still standing in the entrance way, but she ignored her presence in favor of the gardens she had tended her entire life. 

She saw how the night’s rain created dew along the patterns of their leaves and petals, and how they glistened with the dawning sun. She watched the tiny stream of smoke coming from the kitchen’s chimneys dissipating almost as soon as it touched the air. She looked in the windows of the tower that her mother’s things were stored in. There were so many memories there that she would never uncover, but she carried with her the thoughts and feelings that her mother had written down. She was taking with her as many memories as she could fit into her bag. 

Eventually, the carriage left the property behind, and a crop of trees obscured her view of the house. She looked out for a little while longer, but eventually forced herself to sit down. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on one of her hands, closing her eyes and swaying with the bumps in the road. 

She heard the girls talking loudly in the carriage behind her. The morning birds were just beginning to chirp. The gravel road crunched beneath the feet of the horses in front of her, the wheels beneath her, and something far behind. 

Her ears perked up at this unfamiliar sound, like a horse riding hard on the road behind them. 

She stood up and turned to look behind them. The sun glinted off of the gold accents on the horse’s bridle and the man’s uniform. He was riding hard towards them, and gaining ground fast. He seemed to see her head peek up from in front of the carriage and he waved at her. 

“Juleka.” 

The other girl hummed in response. 

“Juleka, stop the carriage.” They shared a frantic look and Juleka complied, pulling the horses to the side of the narrow road. 

“What’s the matter?” Rose and Juleka stood and turned along with Marinette, and they saw the man on the horse overtake them, rearing his horse back to stop him from treading further. 

“I don’t know.” Marinette jumped down from the carriage as he did the same. It took a moment, but he recognized him and the strange muffs he wore around his neck. He had come to deliver the invitations for the ball. He had been charming, but she was confused as to what he was doing here now. 

They met each other by the front of the carriage. Nadja stuck her head out from the carriage window and glared at Marinette. “Why on earth have we stopped? We have a strict schedule to stick to. If we don’t go now, we will miss dinner with the Barron!”

The words meant little to nothing to Marinette. 

“Please stay calm, ma’am,” the guard said, and Nadja almost rebutted before she saw the seal along his lapel. He was clearly a guard, and a high ranking one at that. She may not live close to the capitol but she knew to respect the guards. “I’m an emissary of the prince, here to collect a special package.” He nodded to Marinette. 

Nadja took a long time to connect the dots. Truthfully, it took Marinette a while to understand what he was implying as well. 

“Me?”

“Her?” Nadja shrieked. 

“Marinette, isn’t it?” He addressed her without acknowledging her aunt. 

“Nino, I believe?” They shook hands and Marinette couldn't help but smiling widely. 

“Indeed, it is. It is nice to see you again.”

“I was thinking just the same. But what are you doing here?” 

Nino quieted the braying of his horse with a calm hand. “The prince has decided to hand pick several serving hands from around the kingdom to come and work for him at the castle.” Marinette sputtered. “He has chosen you as one of them.”

“Absolutely not!” Nadja ejected herself from the carriage at record speed and walked directly over to Nino. Despite social contracts to the contrary, she sized up the royal guard, not about to let go another hand that would serve her. “This girl is coming to work with me by order of her _stepmother_. She rightfully belongs to me. I don’t care if you’re working for the king! She is not going anywhere.”

Nino looked between Marinette and Nadja. “Well,” he pushed his spectacles up his nose. “Quite frankly, I’m not sure I appreciate how you speak of the royal family. And despite your previous misconceptions, you cannot legally own a person, especially not this girl, as she now, if she chooses to,” he glanced to Marinette as a courtesy, “works for the prince. As do, if they so choose, those two girls riding along with her.” Rose and Juleka stuck their heads a little farther into the conversation. They had not expected to be noticed at all, especially by a royal guard. It was a servant’s duty to remain anonymous and invisible. That they were recognized at all was strange. 

“The prince considers himself a soft hearted man,” Nino continued with a familiar smirk, “and he has decided to rescue these young women from the clutches of evil women such as yourself.” Nadja choked on her breath. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, I shall escort you all to the castle, where you will be taken home by special guard, and these three will be taken under the wing of our staff. Unfortunately, you will miss your dinner with the Barron. I do hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience for you.”

He turned to the three girls who stood, stunned, at the development. “Ladies?”

Juleka nodded and began turning the carriage around. She had completely forgotten about Nadja, who had yet to get back into the carriage, and who immediately started yelling when the carriage started moving without her in it. 

Once turned around, Nino rode alongside the carriage, keeping the conversation light, talking about the amenities of the castle. The kitchens were huge, the gardens massive, and the staff equally pleasant. Marinette couldn't help but keep a confused smile on her face. She was still completely unsure if this was a dream or not, but the carriage kept moving towards the castle. 

They passed by the mansion once again, and Marinette saw all three women of the house standing at the door of the mansion. She watched them as she passed, and could just make out the looks on their faces. Madame and Sabrina had their arms tightly crossed, but Chloe looked light and relieved. A smile brushed her lips and she waved discretely as they passed. 

Marinette waved back, sure this time that she was dreaming. But as they got to the castle, whatever clouds in Marinette’s mind disappeared, and she found herself feeling right for the first time in a long while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the kids find some relief

Adrien laid on his bed, staring at the glittering shoe that took up residence on his bedside table. He tucked his fists under his chin and stared, watching as the light from outside made it shimmer and shine. It reminded him of the ball, and how the candlelight played in the eyes of the girl the shoe belonged to. He wanted so deeply to find her again, whoever she was. 

Perhaps she would come back for the shoe, he thought. But he remembered the hurry that she was in, and thought it improbable. She said she was leaving for a long time. She said she would miss it here, and he hoped the longing for the castle would bring her back. 

If her longing was anywhere as deep as his, she would be back at any moment. 

A knock on the servant’s door brought in a girl who smiled at him as she poured water into the basin on his table. Steam flooded the space above the bowl, and as he watched the swirls buffet in the invisible currents of the room, the servant pouring from the pitcher had disappeared back through the door she came in from. He was left again in silence as he stared at the glittering shoe on his bedside table. 

He sighed and sunk deeper into his plush bed. The sheets were strewn across the bed and onto the floor, his large comforter pushed to the ground long ago. It was much too warm in the dying summer’s nights, even as it slowly transitioned to the fall. Again, he sighed, content to do nothing that day but stare at a shoe. 

“Quit sighing, kid. You’re ruining the vibe.” Plagg sat on the table on the opposite side of the bed. He had flown to hide when the servant entered, but now he resumed munching on his cheese. It wasn’t unusual to hear him complaining loudly about Adrien’s attitude. 

“What am I supposed to do, Plagg? It’s not like I know who she is.” 

The tiny fairy flew from where his pile of cheese sat and settled in to the shoe like it was a glass throne. Adrien was appalled. He flung his hand out to shoo him away, and Plagg spooked, fuzzing up to twice his size. His tail flicked angrily but he flew front he shoe anyway. 

“Don’t get cheese on it.”

“Like I could make it smell any worse.”

“It doesn't smell, Plagg!” 

“You’ve been sniffing it?”

“I-” Adrien stammered. “No! I- it doesn't smell. And either way, I don’t want your stinky cheese anywhere near it. It’ll get dirty.”

“Whatever, the shininess is giving me a headache anyway. How have you been staring at it for so long.”

“I haven’t been-” 

Plagg gave him a pointed stare. 

“Okay, fine. I’ve been staring at it for a while. But-”

He was going to make what he thought would be a convincing point when there was a knock on the front door. Plagg didn't waste any time fusing through the table to hide in the drawer. Adrien sprung from his bed and ran a hand through his hair, then his clothes, but realized it was no use. There was no getting rid of the wrinkles that had permanently tangled themselves into the fabric of the clothes. 

A quick peek in a mirror revealed that his hair was a little worse for wear as well. He ran to the bowl of water on the table and splashed some in his face. It was way too hot for him, and he immediately regretted not testing the temperature first. His cheeks were no doubt burning red when he turned to see Lila coming through his door. 

His face and hair were dripping wet, but he placed his best and brightest smile on his face nonetheless. “Lila! What a pleasure. Is there anything I can do for you?”

She was fully dressed, unlike he was, and had likely been that way for hours. Adrien had been ignoring many of his responsibilities that morning, claiming that he was feeling unwell. It wasn’t untrue, but the truth had been stretched considerably. 

“I heard that you weren’t feeling your best, and I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help.” If it were said with any other tone, Adrien would have assumed it to be innocent. But, somehow, with the absence of her mask, Lila was even more intimidating. And frightening. Her lips curved into a smile he knew well as the one she used when her father couldn't see her. It was trying too hard to be seductive, but it still worked. 

She walked towards him from across the room like she was hunting down prey. Not totally inaccurate, Adrien thought. He was her prize. And in her presence, he was immediately nervous. His skin crawled as she got closer. 

“I’ve just been recovering from the ball,” he explained. 

“You had too much to drink?” She giggled behind her hand. 

Adrien backed in to the table as she kept getting closer. “Not… exactly.” 

“I, for one, would have loved to see that. But I saw so very little of you last night.” She pouted. Actually, bottom lip jutting out, pouting. “Where did you go? I wanted to dance with you.” One of her gloved hands traced a line down his chest and he realized how very exposed he was. 

“Um-I…” he twisted out of her grasp and marched around the table, using it like a shield. “I was - I had some,” he cleared his throat, “other matters to attend to.”

“Unfortunate.” Her persistence was admirable, but she saw that she might be scaring him away. In fact, she was literally scaring him away. So she sat instead, smoothing down her skirts and reaching for another course of action. “I’m sorry, Adrien.” Her entire demeanor changed, and he could not have been more caught off guard. 

She sighed heavily and looked at her hands. “I don’t think my family has been very fair to you. _I_ haven’t been very fair to you. I know my father has been manipulating yours all these years, and I have hated every minute of it. He expects me - us - to secure the future of our people, and to keep them safe. But the way he is doing it-“ she shook her head and looked sadly at Adrien. 

He shifted in his seat. 

“I never wanted to be a part of it. But he’s my father.” Pleading entered her voice. “You must understand what it’s like. I love him, even if I disagree with him, and I would do anything for him.”

If anyone could understand it, it was Adrien. But he knew too intimately the lengths the Rossis had gone to in order to secure power. 

“I just never meant to get someone else involved in all this. Especially not someone as kind as you are.” Her smile was barely perceptible. 

Adrien wanted to be convinced. He wanted to think that this girl wasn’t trying to manipulate him into marrying her just so she and her family could have power. But he knew too much about her family to trust her. His mother had never trusted them, tried to get as far from them as possible, and had paid with her life. 

“In the spirit of kindness, I am going to tell you now that I have no intention of marrying you.” A shock went through her body, and the softness of her expression hardened into something spiteful. “I never had the intention, and the plotting of our fathers and your family will do nothing to sway me. I am not going to marry you. In fact, I am going to do everything in my power to strip your influence from my people. I don’t doubt that you’re father has ordered you to do what you are doing, but I cannot let it stand if I am to be king.”

Lila stood. Her mouth opened and closed like she was going to speak, but nothing came out. 

“Going so soon?” Adrien stood as well, walking to the door, and holding it open for her. “I enjoyed our chat. I’m feeling much better. Thank you for your visit.” He bowed as she stormed from the room. 

In her huff, she almost knocked Nino over as he walked towards Adrien’s room. The boys shared a look. 

Nino smirked. “Always the heartbreaker, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.” Adrien watched as Lila’s skirts whipped down the hallways and disappeared around a corner. “What dire news do you have to bestow upon me, old friend?” 

“Nothing bad, I promise.” Nino entered the room and adrien closed the door firmly behind them. Clothes were set out for him on the dresser on the opposite side of the room, and he went to get dressed. “I found the girl you asked for and offered her the job. She accepted.”

Adrien was glad he was turned away, because the broad smile that overtook him way almost embarrassing. Heat rose in his face at the thought of Marinette being safe and protected inside castle walls. Far away from her abusive family. “Excellent.” He stepped behind a thin curtain and began to get dressed. “Has she arrived?”

“They have.”

His head peeked out from behind the curtain. “They?”

Nino nodded. “There were some… complications.”

“What happened?” He had finished dressing and emerged from behind the curtain. His hands found their way instinctively behind his back, and he fought the urge to scowl like his father. 

“There were two other servants with her, and they were being treated horrendously by their mistress. She claimed that she owned them, and I acted impulsively.” He paused. “I offered them all jobs at the castle, and they all accepted.”

It looked like Nino was preparing to get reprimanded. He stood tall like a soldier, and he kept his gaze sternly forward. His arms were secured behind his back, and for a moment, they mirrored each other. But Adrien’s smile was not something that Nino expected. 

“That’s great. Thank you for offering them the opportunity. I was right to send you.”

His friend looked confused, if relieved. “Well. Your father was less than pleased.”

Adrien paled. “My father?” A nod. “How did he find out?” 

“He was in the courtyard early this morning. I had to arrange transport for the mistresses back to their home, as all of their servants are now under your employment, and the king arrived in time to see them leave, and for the new servants to be introduced to their new coworkers. He was… not happy. He wishes to speak with you.” 

“Ah.”

“Yes.” 

Adrien slumped down in a chair and rubbed his temples. He was feeling more like his father with every motion he made. “That’s inconvenient.” It would have been nice if he could have kept Marinette’s arrival and ensuing employment at the castle a well kept secret from his father, like he had planned. Apparently, his father was of a different mindset. And now he would have to answer for his actions. “Where am I to meet him?”

“He’s waiting for you in the throne room.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

The throne room. Only at his most upset would his father summon Adrien to speak in the throne room, where he would sit upon his throne and look down at Adrien with every speck of disdain he could summon. Worse than watching his father place his hands behind his back and stare down his nose, was seeing every emotion in his fingers, gripping at the armrests of the throne or rubbing at his temples. “The throne room, then.”

“Shall I call the mortuary?” 

“I think it would be wise to plan ahead.” Adrien sternly walked to his door, where Nino waited to exit the room. 

His friend grabbed his upper arm before he could open the door. “Adrien. I’m… sorry.” Neither of them met the other’s eye. “For getting you in this situation.”

“I told you,” he clapped a hand on his back and smiled reassuringly. “You did right by our people. That’s all I can ask. Thank you for caring for them.” They shared one last moment of silence before Adrien opened the door and walked determinedly to the throne room, and whatever fate he had coming for him. 

The king was pacing around the floor below the throne’s pedestal when Adrien arrived. “Father,” he announced as he entered the room, hoping the fond pet name would alleviate some of the harsh punishment to come. 

“Son,” Gabriel responded, turning to him. “Good. I’ve been waiting for you.”

It was strange not to see him sitting upon his throne. Whenever the two were in this room, Adrien would stand beside his father, or at his feet, watching him dole out punishments, or knight a new soldier, or settle petty disputes among the kingdom. Standing in the middle of the room, his presence was more unsettling than Adrien had anticipated, yet more welcome. 

“Yes, I’ve been told. What do you wish to speak to me about.”

“Come,” his father said, in lieu of an answer. Adrien followed up the steps of the pedestal, and the men stood on either side of the throne. Gabriel stared down at the throne, memories flashing across his eyes like a story Adrien couldn't comprehend. “It’s very nearly your time, my child.” His voice was soft. “This throne will be yours. This kingdom will be yours, all of its people under your care. And you-”

He looked straight into Adrien’s eyes, and he prepared himself for the reprimand that was to come. 

“You could not be more prepared. And I could not be more proud.” 

Shock. Confusion. Happiness. Relief. “You… you’re not mad?”

“I’m furious. Nothing you have done is for the benefit of the kingdom. Everything that you do puts your people further and further at risk. Denying the Rossis puts us in more danger than you know. Speaking as such to Lila this morning-”

“Wait, wait. How did you hear so quickly about Lila? That only happened minutes ago.”

“Such pertinent information spreads quickly. I know much more than you might think, Adrien. You should not have done what you have done. You cannot begin to fathom the ramifications.”

“You think I can’t, but I understand perfectly.” Adrien took a step down the pedestal, if only to get more room to breathe. He refused to raise his voice, or to turn to a tone that was anything less than pleasant. He had had this conversation with his father before, and he was not turning down the path of anger. “I am doing what is best for our people in the long run. I’m protecting them, all of them, from the threat of foreigners. Foreigners that you have not had the spine to stand against, but I do.”

“So you think inviting some poor, abused servants to the castle will do anything to protect the rest of the kingdom?” Adrien staggered. “Are you going to invite every unfortunate soul to stay with us? Every sad story will be met with all the resources the castle can provide? When will it end, Adrien? When we are destitute and the kingdom is in ruins?”

“We have more than enough. If I see someone in need of help, I am going to help. It’s how I was raised.” The memory of his mother shot through them both. They could see her shining eyes, and how they dulled as she died. They saw her bright light that spread across the kingdom, bringing joy and peace wherever it touched, and the ensuing darkness when her light was extinguished, replaced by the shadow of the Rossi’s rule. “I am going to protect my people. Whatever the cost.” 

The king’s eyes softened. His shoulders slumped in a way he only did in the most private of situations. His usually tight-lipped expression loosened to a neutral, relieved expression. “Good.” He nodded, and Adrien remained off balance. “That is a good quality in a king.” 

He began his descent down the steps, leaving Adrien in the shadow of the throne. “I just hope you are ready to pay for its costs.”  
…….

The three girls were already at work in the kitchens when Adrien arrived. Instead of the bows accompanied by his father’s entrance, Adrien was greeted with smiles and fond nods, which he returned in kind. 

“Afternoon, Highness.” The head of house, Mrs. Nell, still refused to call Adrien by his name. She was raised alongside his father, and said it felt wrong to her to address royalty so informally. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” It didn’t stop her from speaking casually with him, which he appreciated. 

“I heard there were some new recruits that needed settling.” 

Mrs. Nell chuckled. “You sound like they’re being trained for war. Recruits,” she giggled at the word like it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, shaking her head. “They’ve been assigned to kitchen work for the moment, until we find a place for them. They were sprucing quite suddenly at us.” She eyed Adrien only slightly accusatorily, but with good nature. Her lips betrayed her smile. “Apparently the dark haired one is fond of the seams. The others are house workers. You can talk with ‘em if you like. They won’t be too busy until we find a good place for them.”

“Thank you, Nell.”

She swatted at him with a spare rag. “Mrs. Nell. You know that, you rascal.”

Adrien grinned widely and took a grape off of the vine she was tending to. “Thank you, Mrs. Nell, for finding a place for them on such short notice.”

“On no notice,” she muttered under her breath as Adrien walked to find the girls in the bustling kitchen. He had already eaten the breakfast they had prepared that morning, and they were preparing the final touches of the lunch that would be spread across the castle, feeding the diplomats, heads of councils, and the visiting Rossis. They were a busy crew, if the bustling of the kitchen were any sign. 

Adrien caught the familiar hints of raven hair through the bustle of the crowd and marched towards it. Marinette was washing dirty dishes in a large basin with two other girls he had never seen before. He tried to know the faces of everyone on his staff, so he assumed these were the unexpected additions Nino had told him about. 

She noticed him before he made it across the room, and a smile blossomed across her cheeks. Her eyes instantly brightened, and her work was forgotten as she sprang from her seat to go to him. 

“Adrien!” she exclaimed as she threw her arms around his neck. She hugged him tightly, and he just barely had the opportunity to return the favor before she pulled away and smiled brightly at him. It was nice to see her face again. He realized it had been too long since they had met like this, him without a mask. He would have to choose his words carefully. “I can’t believe you made this happen.” 

The work in the kitchen was marginally quieter and he felt eyes and ears trained on them. The word would get around quickly, he assumed. No doubt his father knew before it even happened. 

“How did you know?” 

“I-” he didn’t quite know how to respond. “I saw you at the ball,” he said, hoping it was a safe route to take. “You looked upset when you left, and from what you’ve told me about your family, I wanted to do what I could to make sure you were safe. So I took steps.” He realized very acutely that they were holding each other’s hands between them. He pulled away and scratched the back of his neck, blushing lightly. 

Marinette backed away as well, her blush matching his. “Well, it came at just the right time. I was about to be shipped off with my aunts to serve them. Your messenger arrived just in time. And he invited Rose and Juleka, too.” She turned and walked back over to the basin of water where the other girls were working. She sat and resumed her work, but her smile remained. “This is Adrien,” she announced. “He’s the one who offered us this opportunity.” 

A dark haired girl with a stoic expression nodded to him, and the pale girl with shock-white hair smiled warmly. “We’re very honored for the opportunity. Working at the castle has been a longtime dream of mine.” 

“I’m glad.”

“It’s even more beautiful than I had expected. The gardens are lovely. Everything is lovely!” the small blonde girl raved. Her short hair bounced lively around her round face, and Adrien could feel his fondness for her growing with every second she smiled. 

“My father would be very pleased to hear that. The gardens are a special pleasure of his.” 

The two girls opposite of them shared looks. The blonde girl spoke first again. “Your father?” 

“The king,” Adrien nodded. 

“Oh!” The two girls shot to their feet, wiped their dripping hands off on their skirts, and curtsied deeply to him. “We apologize for not knowing sooner. We’re so embarrassed.”

“No, no, please.” Adrien waved his hands in front of him. “Please, you don’t need to address me formally. I’m Adrien to my staff.”

Rose and Juleka rose from their curtsies and eyed each other with skepticism. Marinette had to reassure them. 

“It’s fine, I promise. Adrien is a kind soul. He means it.” She smiled up at him and he couldn't help but smile himself. It was an infectious grin, and he always found himself feeling lighter whenever he saw it. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” 

“I mean it, too.” They shared a giggle. 

A beat passed as he watched them clean dishes for a moment. Then a thought sprung on Adrien. “I heard that you enjoy sewing.” 

Marinette noticed the comment was directed at her, and she looked back up at him. A blush overtook her. “Oh… well, yes. I mean. I don’t know if I’m very good at it, but I do sew occasionally. I’ve made a dress for the ball recently, but I wasn’t able to wear it. I guess I like it. Louis says I’m pretty good. Oh, Louis is a seamstress and a tailor. He’s pretty famous. He’s a friend. But I-” she stopped in her tracks. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Juleka answered for him. 

“You’re fine. Well, if that’s the case, then I believe I will move you to a seamstress position. You’d be working under some of the best in the kingdom.” 

Her eyes went wide, and Adrien giggled at the shocked expression. “Oh Adrien, no. That’s too much!”

“Not at all.” He placed a careful hand on her shoulder. “I want to help in anyway I can. If you have any troubles,” he nodded to the girls across the basin as well, “let me know. I will do everything in my power to set it right.” 

Worth a final smile goodbye, he left the kitchen to their gossipy whispering.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they are both clueless

Marinette could barely sleep the first night in the castle. The beds were too soft, the sound of other’s breathing filled the air, and the blankets covering her were too warm. It was nothing like she was used to. It was better, much better. She couldn’t help but feel guilty for hating sleeping on a mattress of her own. 

She pulled her blanket onto the floor and curled up with the thinnest pillow she could find. It was a hard task, as most pillows were filled to the brim with soft goose feathers, and shrouded in fine silk. It felt like lying on water, being comforted by clouds. 

After two hours of shifting on the cold stone floor, she decided trying to sleep was useless. Even the floor felt too comfortable, somehow. The ceilings were too tall, the walls too colorful, the entire room felt like something out of a fairytale, and she was right in the middle of it all. It was too much for her. 

She grabbed the new shoes she was given by the mistress of the house and a cloak that reached her knees. It was warm and wollen, shielding her from the breeze that swept across the castle grounds. 

The stars were glistening against the fountains in the main courtyard, making it look like the water itself was producing light. The topiaries were trimmed so neatly, they looked like statues, completely still even in the slight breeze. They looked identical to the actual statues interspersed between them, made of marble and costing more than anything she had ever laid her eyes on. The cobblestone path beneath her shone, each stone like polished glass. She could almost see herself reflected in them if she looked closely enough. 

Night air filled her lungs as she wandered the gardens. She didn’t know why, but she felt the most comfortable there, among the roses and awakening buds that felt like her own little garden back home. She barely had room for flowering plants like those she found at the castle, as concerned as she was about providing food for herself. But she did manage to sneak in a rose bush or two. Her mother had always loved roses. Her father was allergic, but he loved them, too. 

The grounds were completely quiet, save the rustling of the wind in the high trees. The leaves were beginning to turn as the summer drew nearer to an end. The tips of the branches were beginning to sour into a yellow. Soon, they would turn completely and the leaves would dry and crunch beneath her feet. 

She looked forward to the changing of the seasons as a child, when she would go out with her father and mother and run in the leaves, or play in the rains. They would bundle her up and let her play for hours, until she would come back inside, drink warm milk and watch the snow fall out a window. 

But now, she dreaded the change. The nights grew long and cold, and she was forced to huddle into herself to fend off the frigid air. There was no amount of blankets or clothing that could ward off the cold, so she shivered herself to sleep every night. 

How would it all change, now that she worked for the prince? In the castle, there was barely a room that did not have a fire raging at all times. The hallways were warm. The lowest floors, where heat rarely penetrated, were seeped in warmth. 

It was astounding, the work that was put into keeping the entire place running. The staff of hundreds barely had time for leisure, but they still enjoyed the work. They were not pushed and abused as she was at home. They did not have to struggle to complete tasks on their own, or face the wrathful tongue of a jealous stepmother. It was easier here. A fact that hadn’t completely formed in Marinette’s mind. It still confused her. 

Her feet carried her aimlessly around the gardens, until she found herself at the entrance of a hedge maze. The walls were familiar. She remembered it like ti was from a dream, even though she had only been there two nights before. The entire world seemed to slow down as she wandered into the maze. 

The light sounds of breeze and flowing water disappeared within the walls of the maze. There was a new kind of silence, where nothing stirred but the clouds above her. She found her way to the middle with surprising ease. The gazebo stood like the remembered it, with a large, beautiful tree sprouting from the middle, bursting through the roof, its limbs cascading around the clearing and creating a roof that blocked out any light. 

Lanterns from the ball still hung around, but they were no longer lit. It was almost completely dark. Nevertheless, she found her way into the gazebo, and sat on the splintering wood. She sat back on the bench and sighed deeply. Somewhere around her, the noise echoed back to her in an unfamiliar tone. 

She sat stick straight and looked around to find where the noise came from. “Who’s there?” It seemed silly to ask to the darkness, but it spoke back. 

“It’s just me, princess.” 

Chat’s voice was like butter as it rang from a shadow somewhere. It purred through her and sent her shivering. 

“Chat. I can’t say I’m not surprised to see you. Well, hear you. Where are you hiding?”

Shuffling from above her drew her gaze. With a light oomphf, she watched him drop from the roof of the gazebo and land in front of her. 

“Your athleticism is astounding,” she commented with a giggle. 

He didn’t share her smile. 

“What’s the matter, kitty?” When he didn’t respond, she shifted to the side and patted the space on the bench next to her. “Come sit. Tell me your story.” 

He padded across the gazebo floor silently and slumped on the bench beside her. It was then that she noticed the object he held in his hand. 

A crystalline, sparkling slipper. 

The same shoe she had been wearing the night of the ball. 

For a long minute, she was confused, then she was frightened and worried, then settled back into confusion. Once her magic disappeared, wouldn't the same happen to the shoe? It should have turned back to the slipper that Adrien had given her, and it would have given away her entire secret. Instead of the beautiful sparkling thing that Tikki had created for her, it should be soft and leathery and fit her perfectly. 

Why did he still have it, she wondered, and why was it still in this form? It would turn back at any second, she thought, dreading the worst. It would turn into the dull shoe that she used to wear and Chat would understand that his Lady was nothing but a fake and a fraud. 

But the magic remained, and the shoe glittered in the nonexistent light of the clearing. Chat stared at it with something that looked like longing. She kept her gaze on him, studying him. 

His eyes were no longer covered by a mask, but the darkness obscured his features enough that he remained a stranger to her. There was something different about the curve of his lips and the bridge of his nose, but his eyes were the same as they had ever been. They were steady and green and breathtaking. 

It was all she could do to say a few words. “You have… a shoe.”

He moved the slipper around in his hands, contemplating it, then broke his gaze with it and moved to her. His attention encompassed her, and she could feel her heartbeat pick up. “It’s my Lady’s shoe. She dropped it at the ball. I’ve been holding on to it for her. I’ve been-” he sighed and his head fell back. The bright green of his eyes disappeared behind his lids, and his eyebrows cinched above them. “I’ve been waiting for her to come back.”

Marinette sighed to herself. Would Ladybug ever come back? As far as she knew, her usefulness has expired. She was no longer needed, so she would never transform again, and become that beautiful, ethereal beauty that Tikki had made her. For a moment, she wanted to relieve that feeling again. She wanted to be Ladybug. “Tell me about her,” she suggested. 

It was more for her than it was for him, but she watched his entire face light up at the prospect of telling someone about his Lady. “She’s wonderful,” he breathed. He used the present tense, she noticed, like she was still with them. Marinette reached up to her earrings and guessed that maybe, in some way, she still was. What more was Ladybug that Marinette in a dress, afterall? “She is kind and beautiful and strong. We’ve only talked for a short time, but I feel like I truly know her. And I want to know more about her and I…” he couldn't finish, and she didn't blame him. 

What could be said. No one really knew Ladybug. Sure, she had caught the prince’s attention, but she was no more than a figment of the imagination. Marinette grew jealous of her, of the attention and love that surrounded her, where Marinette had none. She wanted to transform then and there, and show Chat that Marinette was Ladybug and Ladybug was Marinette, and he didn’t have to try and find what was already right there. 

“I miss her,” Chat whispered, and Marinette agreed. 

“Maybe she’ll come back,” she offered fruitlessly. 

Chat shook his head. “She’s far away by now.”

“How do you know?” 

“She told me so.” He closed his eyes, trying to remember. “She told me that she lives far from here, and she might never return again. I want her to return, to find her again, but I have no way of knowing where she might be. I have no way of contacting her, or letting her know how much she means to me. I don’t know what I can do.”

“Well,” Marinette began, and then stopped. There wasn’t much she could offer that would make him feel better. She felt bad that she left in such a rush. Maybe if she had said a proper goodbye… “I’m sure she misses you as much as you her.”

The corners of his lips drifted upwards. “Perhaps.”

“She does. There’s much to miss about you.”

Chat blinked at her through a curtain of golden hair. “You flatter me, princess?”

“I thought that was obvious.” His smile was radiant. “It’s nothing more than you already know. You’re quite something, Chat.”

“You mean you’re quite something.” 

“I know what I said,” she giggled. He smiled into his hands, where the shoe still slept. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” 

“My pleasure, Chat Noir. And who knows. Maybe she’s still in the kingdom,” she suggested. “You never know. She could be a commoner in disguise. She could be right under your nose. You just have to find her.” She was being too bold, and she knew it, but she couldn't help herself. 

“And how would I go about finding her, do you think?” 

Marinette glanced at the shoe. “Well. You have her shoe. Might as well see if it fits.” 

He turned in her seat. “Would you try it on?”

Their eyes met for a moment too long, and Marinette realised he was serious. There was curiosity in his eyes, an intense, searching look that burned into her. Did he want it to be hers? Did she want him to know? She hesitated for a moment, and managed to croak out, “I’ve got my own shoes, thank you. Though I’m flattered you think so much of me.” 

“You are special, Marinette. There’s something special about you.” She was glad the darkness hid her blush from him. He stood, towering over her in her seat, and tucked the shoe away somewhere on his person. “Thank you, princess. For always remaining my confidant.” He took her hand and leaned forward, barely touching his lips to her knuckles before he dropped her hand and disappeared into the darkness beyond the gazebo. 

Marinette sighed at loss of his warmth. Tikki immediately flew from where she hid and turned to face her master. 

“Marinette! The shoe!” 

She was shaken out of her trance and realized what the fairy meant. How strange that the shoe hadn’t lost its magic. 

“I thought all your magic wore off after the ball?” 

“It did,” Tikki squeaked. “At least, it should have. I haven’t felt anything being drained from me. I don’t think it’s my magic that’s keeping the transformation.” 

“What do you mean, Tikki? Does someone else have your magic?”

She shook her tiny head, and her entire body moved with it. “No, my magic is special. There are no others who are exactly like me, but there are others who have…” she weighed her words carefully, “similar magic. Complimentary magic.”

“Threes no need for riddles, Tikki. What do you mean?”

She sighed. “It is true there are no others exactly like me. I am the god representing good luck, and I have the power of creation. My abilities are abstract; even I don't understand them fully all the time. There are other gods who represent other… concepts. Where I represent good luck, others may represent controversy, strength, patience, and so on. There are hundreds of gods like me, who represent the different patterns of existence that have been created since the beginning of time.”

“How long have you been… alive?” Marinette wasn’t sure it was the right word to use. 

“I was created eons ago, long before man roamed the earth. Though my power existed long before me. Creation is the very fabric of existence, but my body as it is now doesn’t truly exist to anyone but you. I can form a body because of the power my wielder gives me, and I, in turn, give you mine. I’m dormant until that power is called upon; I don’t fully exist until you put my earrings on and summon me. But when I am called, I take on a physical body. And when you transform, I become what you create. I fold myself into the fabric of the dress you wear, just like my power, creation, exists in all things.”

“So I wear… you?”

“Exactly. I am able to manipulate matter into whatever form I choose. I took your clothes, your shoes, and your body, and I transformed it into what you saw at the ball.” Tikki took a breath. “What I don’t understand is… when the shoe was separated from me, the magical connection should have been interrupted, and it should have transformed back into the shoe Adrien gave you.”

“Then why is it still the slipper you made?”

“I think… I’m not sure, but I think, that there is another god like me nearby who has the similar power to sustain my magic.”

“There are gods like that who exist?”

“They are very rare. You must understand, there must be a balance. Strength and weakness, compassion and cruelty, creation and destruction. When I was created, so too was my counterpart. In most cases, the contrast exists within the kwami. Where strength exists, so too does weakness, and both are embodied within the god. But the power of creation is nothing like the others, and so its opposite, destruction, is embodied by another. It’s true that we go together, and when we go together, we create an unstoppable force.”

Marinette tried to understand. “So you have an opposite? And that’s why the shoe hasn’t gone back?”

“I believe so. I think Plagg, the god of destruction, exists close to the shoe, and his magic compliments mine in such a way that the shoe I created remains tethered to his power.”

“But… wouldn't the god have to be summoned in order for its magic to work like that? You said you only are able to… make things when you have the body that a wielder gives you.”

“That’s right. Without my master, without my body, I exist as a concept and nothing more. I chose you because you represent what is good. You are kind and generous, and you create without ulterior motive, just to create. That’s why I was drawn to you. And my opposite would chose someone who is similar to them. Someone who has faced destruction and heartbreak and has survived through it. So that must mean that Plagg has chosen a host that represents bad luck just as I represent good.”

“Who might that be?”

“That’s where I was unsure. I thought, perhaps it was a coincidence…”

“What?”

“My physical form represents that of a ladybug, which symbolizes good luck. And bad luck is represented by a black cat.”

“A cat?”

“Yes.”

“So that means…?” Tikki nodded. “That means that Chat Noir is like me. He was chosen by a kwami and he is… my opposite?”

“Your other half. Your soulmate.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien finds a little bit of hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise attack! If I keep saying sorry for not updating for weeks or months then I'm never gonna stop saying sorry. 
> 
> Just know that I will not stop writing this story until it is finished or I am dead. Enjoy.

Adrien could not take it anymore. He had to do something about his Lady, instead of sitting in his room, or in the council chambers, doing nothing but thinking and longing. The sounds of the other members of the council filtered down to nothing as he thought of the shoe that was still in his bedroom. It was wrapped in a silk bedsheet and nestled in the corner of one of his dresser drawers, as safe as he could make it. 

Plagg still made fun of him for taking such good care of it. Adrien brushed him off. It was his Lady’s shoe, and the last connection he had to her. It was his last chance to get her back. 

His talk with Marinette the night before had validated his longing. He needed to find Lady Bug again, no matter how long it took. 

“Adrien.” 

He heard his name through the fog in his head. The field marshal was staring him down, her eyes narrowed, her brows furrowed. She had never been a fan of Adrien’s distractedness, and it showed now in her curled lips, almost in a snarl. 

It had been a week since the council was last convened, before the ball. It seemed like forever ago. 

“I’m sorry,” Adrien sat higher in his chair. “I got distracted.”

“Of course you did,” the field marshal said under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear. Nino gave her a look that she ignored. No one else bothered to pay her any mind. She pushed her shoulders back in that way she did when she wanted to feel important and big. She was already a large woman, but this stature made her even more imposing. “As I was saying, the castle security is being doubled after the ball. After so many people have seen the ins and outs of the castle, I believe it is wise to add protection, in case anyone plans on…” she glanced at Adrien. He suddenly recalled the conversation they had a week ago. He had claimed that the people would become angry if they were taxed without tangible benefits. Protection and peace were not enough. They needed to see their power, and that the kingdom worked for them. “Disturbing the peace.” 

He knew there would be little to fight against now. The people were happy, as far as he knew. They were appreciated, they appreciated the crown. They worked together. 

“Have there been any reports of unrest since the ball?” Adrien pushed. 

“Not so far.” She said it like she was disappointed. “The whispers of discontent have been silenced in the wake of such a large event, but we have to consider every possibility, and we have to keep the crown safe.”

“We have to consider the safety of our people.” 

“There are no people without the crown,” the tax master interjected. He was not happy that they had such a large event without increasing the taxes. He had a special connection to the stores of gold and jewels that were kept in vaults beneath the castle. They were large and full to bursting, but he constantly longed for more to fill them. Money was power, he often told the council, and he believed it fully. “We have showed our power and wealth. There is little they can do to fight it.”

“Is that what you think this was?” Adrien asked. “A power display?”

“It may not have been your intent, Your Highness,” he said with dripping condescension. “But nevertheless, we have showed our power, our riches, our resolute position as the wealthy benefactors of the kingdom.”

“And it has been seen.” The king spoke quietly, but all other sound in the room stopped when he began. The long silence that followed was thick. The king sighed. He had grown older in the days since the ball. The arrival of the Rossis had taken their toll. “We must consider foreign threats.”

Adrien’s interest piqued. The rest of the council had not been told about the threat of the Rossis, as far as he knew. The king took that burden upon himself. He had always been selfish about his responsibilities. 

“As it stands,” the king said, voice heavy, “our people are safe from within the kingdom. My son was right in extending the invitation of the ball to all our people. Our loyalty has been strengthened. Whatever dissent that existed in the populous is sated for now. We no longer need to think of the security within the kingdom.” He nodded to the field marshal and she huffed to herself. “Instead,” he stood slowly, like the weight of the world was holding him down, “we must be concerned about the Rossis.” 

The entire room erupted. People spoke over each other and slowly escalated into shouting.

“The Rossis?” The taxmaster exclaimed. “They’ve been allies of the kingdom for years. They’ve helped us through countless trials. Why would they be a threat? _How_ could they be a threat?”

“I never trusted them,” the field marshal grumbled to herself.

“What do you mean, they’re a threat. How could we have not seen that coming? We’ve been close for over a century!”

“Impossible.” 

“That’s outrageous. We would have known if they had been coming for us.”

Nino caught Adrien’s eye from across the room, a question in his gaze. Adrien nodded slowly and looked into his hands, still not quite able to believe it himself. 

His father remained silent, letting the shock subside into tense silence. “I realize,” he sighed, “that this is unexpected. But the Rossis have had their hands in this kingdom since the passing of the Queen. They are, in fact, the reason for her passing.”

There would have been gasps if everyone in the room hadn’t been holding their breath. 

“They threaten to withhold trading from their region, which will doom this country to isolation from some of our most important trading partners. We will not survive the separation, and they know this. In showing the people our strength, we threatened the Rossis with our independence. They do not like the way things stand.”

“What do they want?”

“Marriage.” Adrien spoke up. 

The room’s eyes turned to him. 

“Power,” the king corrected.

“Well then give them the boy. We have no more important ties than that of the Rossis. If we do not have them as trading partners, our entire kingdom falls to ruin.” The trading master had more heat in his glare than he usually did, which was considerable. “A marriage with them will give us more power anyway. Our kingdom will be safe.”

“No.” The king’s voice was almost a whisper. 

“And why not?” 

“Because, if we give them Adrien’s hand in marriage, his life will only last until the Rossi girl has a child. They’re looking for power, not love. The power is not theirs if Adrien is there to withhold her total domination over the countryside. He will not survive a marriage to them.”

“How do you know this?”

The king did not have to answer. A stern, sad glare told the story all on its own. The room simultaneously recalled the Queen, and her slow, painful death. Adrien might fall to the same fate if he married Lila. He could still see the Queen’s pale skin, the sweat on her brow, the bile on her lips. 

“Then what do you propose?” Nino said his first words of the meeting. He looked carefully between Adrien and the king, unsure of what to do. 

“We must find a way to appease the Rossis without giving them my son’s life. Or, we must find a way to survive without their influence, which will lead to the eventual degradation and destruction of our kingdom.”

“So we have only one option then.” The field marshal stood. “We go to war.”

The taxmaster scoffed. “Sit down, Rachelle. We can’t go to war with everyone who causes us a minor inconvenience.”

“This is not a minor inconvenience,” she retorted. “This is a threat to our kingdom that must be dealt with.”

“We have not the army to defeat them. We barely have the manpower to defend ourselves,” Nino said.

“Let alone the monetary resources,” the tax master added. 

“Our armies were not meant for seige. We have always been a peaceful people. We don’t have the experience of war. Our soldiers are meant to keep the peace, not defend it.”

“And we have the element of surprise on our hands.” The field marshal remained standing. “If we train our men for war and attack unexpectedly, then we have the upper hand.” 

“They doubtless have men on the inside. We can’t assume that anything we do will be a surprise to them.”

“Then we cut off all communication to their kingdom. Guard the roads and prevent anyone from leaving.”

“And stir their suspicions of dissent?” 

“Well, no one else is coming up with any ideas.”

“Because we’re trying to keep you from a very bad one!”

Shouting began again. Nino, Adrien, and the king were the only ones who did not fall into yelling and petty jabs about past indiscretions. The king sat and began massaging his temples. Adrien put his head in his hands. Nino laughed when the field marshal gave a particularly clever retort about the tax master’s sexual exploits. 

“Enough!” Adrien stood and the entire room was silenced. He hardly ever raised his voice, but now he shouted over the rest of the room. “Petty squabbles solve nothing. Our country is in danger. And your lives, too, if the Rossis find you too much of a threat. I would not put it past them to leave you all destitute and replace you with people loyal to their throne.”

They all shut up quickly. The thought had not crossed their mind, but now they shifted in their seat, considering the possibility. 

“I do not wish to sacrifice my people to save my own life. I would die for them if i needed to, but I will not leave them without protection. We must figure out a way to save all of our lives. Yours, mine, and our people.”

…… 

The better part of the next three hours were spent brainstorming plots and schemes that would enable them to get out from beneath the Rossi’s thumb. There were very few possibilities left to them. Everywhere they looked, the Rossis influenced some part of the population, or otherwise made it impossible to make a move. 

Adrien felt trapped, with nowhere to run. He was stifled in his room, and felt like he was choked by the walls as he walked through the castle. The night air rushed into his lungs as he stepped outside, and he felt himself roaming to the stables. Before he knew what he was doing, he was riding hard to the willowed creek where he had first met Marinette. It felt like a safe space, and he needed some form of comfort. 

When he arrived, Plagg zoomed from where he hid in his pocket. “Damn, kid. Did you have to keep me locked up for that whole meeting? It’s so boring.” He found a little patch of soft grass to lay in and began grooming himself. 

“It would do you some good to listen. If I die, you go away.” 

“Eh,” the kwami shrugged. “I can always find another Chosen. They might even give me some cheese.”

“I give you plenty of cheese.” As if to prove it, Adrien pulled out a small porcelain container and flipped it open, revealing several stinky pieces of camembert. He threw one to Plagg. While he still found the cat’s appetite to be gross, he was endeared to it. He was quite cute, he thought. 

But annoying. Incredibly annoying. 

“Ah, that’s the stuff,” Plagg grinned and patted his full belly. “So, what are you gonna do about the whole Rossi situation?”

“We still don’t know. There’s really no good option at this point.” 

“There’s never a good option when lives are at stake.” Plagg said it like he had experienced some tough decisions. 

“Yeah.” Adrien sighed and tucked his knees up to his chin. He felt like a child, directionless and useless. He was going to be king, he should know how to protect his people. Do what’s best for them. Keep them from harm’s way. But everything he did, he felt like he was pushing them closer to danger, war, famine. “I don’t know what to do.”

Plagg chuckled. “Seems pretty impossible to me. I wish I had some sort of god on my side that could help me against impossible odds. That’s what you need, kid.” 

Adrien looked over at the little creature. “What do you mean?”

“Do you think it was a coincidence that I came to you right before this whole thing happened? Kwamis appear in times of trouble. We are summoned to deal with an imbalance in the world. It just so happens that the Rossis like to meddle in the path of balance, and there needs to be someone on the other side to keep order. Why else would I be here?”

“I just thought you were like… I don’t know…”

“Your fairy godmother?” Plagg twisted up into the air, leaving a stream of dark glitter in his wake that dissolved in the breeze. “This isn’t some fairytale, kid. And I’m not a fairy. I’m a god. A very powerful one, actually. I’m here for a reason.” He floated to the little container of cheese and helped himself to another piece. He threw it in the air and deftly caught the whole thing in his mouth. 

“You’re supposed to help me?” Plagg nodded. “How?”

“That’s up to you, kid. I’m not a strategist.” He took another piece of cheese from the container. “Although…”

“What?” Adrien sat straight and leaned in towards the kwami. “Although what?

“Nothing. Ignore me. It’s nothing.” Something sad passed through him. Longing, like he missed someone. 

“Tell me.” 

“No way.”

“Then you don’t get anymore cheese.” Adrien closed the container on Plagg’s fingers. 

Two green eyes narrowed into slits. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.”

They stared each other down for a few moments. Plagg glanced between Adrien and the container of cheese that he was holding just out of reach. “Fine.” 

Adrien smiled coyly and passed over the cheese. 

“I was going to say,” he said between a bite of cheese. “That it might be in your best interest to pair up with my counterpart.”

“Counterpart? Who?”

“Let me finish and I will tell you.” Their eyes narrowed at each other once again, but still Plagg continued. “Kwamis are powerful beings from the beginning of time, yadda yadda, born from the creation of the universe, we represent whatever whatever. When a powerful kwami is created, so is their counterpart. I represent bad luck, with the power of destruction. My opposite, Tikki, represents good luck, and has the power of creation. Together we are more powerful than apart. We compliment each other’s strengths and weaknesses. And when we are bound…” he trailed off. 

Adrien scooted closer. “What happens?”

“Nothing.”

“Plagg!” 

“Seriously kid, you don’t want to know. You’d better hope that you don't know anyone selfish enough to try and use us together. Our combined power comes at a cost. A cost you don’t want to pay.” Something in his voice convinced Adrien not to push the issue further. 

“Then how do we find her?”

“You already did.” Adrien’s head tilted to the side in question. “I take the form of the black cat, representing bad luck. Good luck is represented by the ladybug. Now, can you think of any particularly beautiful ladybugs that you’ve seen in the past weeks?” 

“My Lady?” he breathed the words, too sacred to say aloud. 

Plagg nodded. “Find her again, and you’ll have everything you need to get those Rossi people off your back.”


End file.
